


you will break the lie of men's thoughts

by depugnare



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bittersweet Ending, Blood, Body Horror, Horror, Magic, Multi, Necromancy, Suicide, but it's more of a self sacrifice, of a sort, sea creature flint, undead silver, well...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-06-15 07:57:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15408492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/depugnare/pseuds/depugnare
Summary: “You’ve made me a monster,” Flint says softly. “I can feel it in my blood. My bones. This body is not right.”





	1. you will yet haunt men in ships

In the quiet of the night is when Flint comes to him. Spills from the sea like ink, and manifests in Silver’s open arms.

 

“You’re late,” Silver says, dragging a hand through wet, red hair.

 

“The moon is up,” Flint murmurs, tugging on a soft, dark curl. “As long as she shines you’re mine, so I’m not  _ late _ .”

 

“The moon has been up for hours,” Silver whines. “Hours! I’ve been waiting on this beach all alone for you.”

 

“Alone?” Flint hums, swimming a circle around him, eyes glowing bright in the dark. Silver shivers at how hungry they look. “My pretty human? I find that hard to believe.”

 

Silver splashes him and laughs at the outraged face Flint makes.

 

“Pretty human? You sound like a mythical creature.”

 

“I am,” Flint grinds out, trailing a claw from Silver’s hip to the center of his chest. Taps over his swift-beating heart. “This belongs to  _ me _ .”

 

“I know,” Silver murmurs, putting a hand over Flint’s, over the silvery scar beneath his palm. “I gave it to you, remember?”

 

Flint runs his tongue over his teeth and smiles, fangs sharp and white in the moonlight.

 

“How could I forget?”

 

Silver leans down and pres ses his mouth against Flint’s, teeth snagging on his lip and making Flint purr deep in his chest. Flint reaches up and pulls at Silver until he gives in and lets Flint pull him under.

 

Sinks into the dark water with a sigh.

 

There is no reason to fear the ocean when you’ve already drowned.

 

-  -

 

 

It hadn’t always been this way.

 

Once, Flint was human. Silver used to have a heart. The ocean had been a terrifying thing.

 

Once.

 

He had been young. He thinks. Young, with a terrible past and an uncertain future. Not the best environment for nurturing a generous spirit.

 

But he had been young, and full of love whether he knew it or not. He was in love with being alive to feel the sun on his face. The promise of freedom always just out of his reach, money and power barring the way.

 

So of course it had not be difficult to stow away and kill the cook. Had not been difficult to give a name that was only half-true and half-remembered. Lied and lied and lied until all that was left to tell was the truth.

 

That he had been in love.

 

He does not remember when he had fallen in love. Neither with Madi nor with Flint. It was as though he suddenly turned to look at them one day and it felt like freedom and like terror and if he lost them he would know what it was like to lose his mind.

 

Thinking he had lost Madi had nearly driven him mad, turning and turning in every room he entered and never finding her. Understood then why Flint was the raging inferno he was. Always looking for those you’ve lost  and never finding them, never resting. It was enough to drive anyone mad.

 

Then the ocean had decided that Flint’s time had come and Silver had lost the last bit of sanity he had left.

 

He’d whirled on the man who’d shot Flint and leapt at him, one leg and all. Had drove a dagger into his chest again and again, and turned and struck out at the hands that tried to still him. Had slashed their hands before they’d stopped trying to pull him off the corpse of the man who had died long before Silver stopped stabbing him. Had perched over Flint’s body like a jackal guarding carrion until Madi appeared over the side of the ship, bruised and bloody, but  _ alive _ .

 

He’d collapsed, landing on Flint, still warm, and stared up at her. Knew he must look like a feral beast covered in blood.

 

She had crouched down and smoothed his hair away from his face, crooning soft words to him.

 

_ Don’t worry _ , she had said.  _ Mother Ocean has him now _ .

 

Silver had opened his mouth and screamed.

 

 

-   -

 

_ “Do you remember being born?” Flint had asked him that one dark, warm night.  _

 

_ The kind of quiet, dangerous night between battles that made you want to spill your heart’s contents into the welcoming darkness. _

 

_ “No,” he’d replied. “I only remember who I am now.” _

 

_ I remember when Long John Silver was born, he thinks, but that is not my name. _

 

_ Flint studied him from the shadows, torchlight making his green eyes glint like a wildcat’s. As though he knew exactly what Silver was thinking. Then he very carefully reaches out a hand, pale in the dark, and tilts Silver’s chin up until he’s forced to meet his eyes. _

 

_ “You are what you make of yourself,” Flint says and it’s then that Silver feels how Adam must have felt when God formed him from clay. _

 

_ I did not make myself , he wants to say.   I am only what you and others have made of me. I am what the world has forced me to be. _

 

_ “Is that so?” he asks. “Then what are you Captain? Who is James Flint?” _

 

_ Flint leans forward, lips almost brushing against Silver’s. _

 

_ “I am many things. I am a pirate captain and I am your friend. I loved once and I lost and that loss was almost too great for me to bear. Was too great to bear. What survived is who you see before you.” _

 

_ Someone so torn apart by grief they would be unrecognizable if Silver had not torn himself apart in a similar way, a long, long time ago. _

 

_ “My friend?” _

 

_ Flint smirks and leans back, standing tall, though he is not so tall. He seems just a man in that moment, warm and alive. _

 

_ “Is that not what we are, friends? You said so yourself.” _

 

_ “I suppose I did.” _

 

_ But there in the dark Silver feels more than friendship pressing in on him. Love, dark and wet, slithering from both of them like a newly hatched snake, ready to kill them with a single, devastating bite to the throat, is what he feels around him in the dark. _

 

_ “Strange pairs Silver, they can accomplish the most extraordinary things,” Flint says after a long moment, gaze never leaving Silver. _

 

_ A cloud covers the moon, plunging them into darkness and Silver feels the brush of a hand against his forearm, much too soft to be Flint’s.  _

 

_ Yes , Silver thinks as the moon reappears and Flint is coated in her corpse-white light.  Strange pairs indeed . _

 

_ “What things would you have us accomplish Captain?” _

 

_ Flint grins, bright white. _

 

_ “The usual Mr. Silver. What nobody else would dare dream of.” _

 

-   -

 

 

Silver sits vigil with Flint’s body in his cabin, watching for any movement not caused by the gentle rock of the water against the hull of the ship. Flint doesn’t move, his skin a waxy white reminiscent of cod flesh.

 

The only sound in the room is the ebb and flow of water against the hull and Silver’s own blood rushing through his ears.

 

Flint is dead.

 

He does not believe it.

 

He takes another breath. Flint does not move. He gets up, paces, and sits back down.

 

Flint does not move.

 

“Flint,” he tries, calling out to him. “Flint,  _ please _ .”

 

Flint does not move.

 

Silver hooks his hand around the back of his chair and throws it with a enraged scream that has the door to the cabin rattling from the other side, but Silver had long ago bolted it. He goes over and tears the books from their shelves, rips parchment apart, tosses empty rum bottles until a pile of glittering glass lays beneath the windows.

 

Still, Flint does not move.

 

“Tell me what you need,” Silver pleads, going over to look down at him. “Tell me, I know you’re not dead. Not you. Not like this.”

 

Flint is still, not even a twitch of his fingers. Then, as Silver watches, he shifts across the desk. His breath catches in his throat, but he realizes after a moment that it’s only the movement of the ship as a squall blows into the harbor. The water pounds against the side of the ship, back and forth, push and push and pull, and Flint could be sleeping were it not for the blue shade of his lips.

 

Back and forth the cabin tips. Ebb and flow.

 

The ship rolls in time with Silver’s heartbeat until it’s roaring in his ears as he stares down at Flint, motionless and pale. So at odds with the rest of the room. Silver puts a hand over his heart and feels blood pump in and out. Push and pull.

 

Ebb and flow.

 

“I understand,” Silver says softly, and the wind starts to howl outside. The door to the cabin rattles and he can hear Madi’s voice on the other side, words snatched away by wind and drowned out by thunder.

 

He clambers up onto the desk, straddling Flint, and pulls a knife from his jacket. Rips open his shirt until his bare skin is exposed to the cool, humid air of the cabin. His heart races beneath his skin, and he can feel it pushing against his ribs with every beat. 

 

Push and pull.

 

Ebb and flow.

 

“I understand,” Silver says again, twisting the blade in his hand, pointing it towards his chest.

 

The door bursts open and there’s a cacophony of voices, but Silver’s hand is already moving towards the space between his ribs. The knife pierces his flesh and drives into his heart just before Madi reaches him, a horrified look on her face. Wet, red blood pours down his chest and onto Flint’s, stark crimson against ghastly white.

 

“What are you doing?!” Billy bellows, tugging at him and Silver smirks at him, teeth pink with blood. 

 

“He needs it.”

 

Turns to Madi, who's looking between him and Flint with dawning realization. Shakes her head, eyes wide.

 

“The ocean will never give him back” she says. “He belongs to her now.”

 

Silver slumps over on top of Flint, blood rushing even faster from his chest. Beneath him, Flint's skin starts to warm. He reaches out for Madi and she takes his hand, doesn’t flinch at the blood on his palm. Her bodyguard moves to pull her away, but she raises her free hand to stop him.

 

“The ocean  _ told _ me to do this” Silver manages to gasp out, and he can hear Billy unsheath his sword behind them. Sees Madi's eyes glance at him, face twisting even further into a horrified expression.

 

“He's already dying! Don't!”

 

“It's not for him” Billy says, and Silver knows from the look on Madi’s face that he’s raised his blade. 

 

There’s the whistle of the blade going through the air.

 

Madi screams, rushing at Billy and managing to get her hands on his sword arm.

 

A struggle. The sound of boots against the deck. Billy shouting. A pained yelp.

 

And then beneath him Flint moves, hand snapping up to catch Billy’’s wrist just before his blade goes through Silver’s back. Silver smirks at the silence that falls over the cabin, still as a tomb. Rolls when Flint sits up, and is only kept from tumbling to the floor by Flint’s other hand reaching out to catch his shirt. His blood spills from his mouth, a tide of crimson that splatters grotesquely against the floor.

 

“Mutiny is a crime punishable by death,” Flint says, glaring up at Billy. Billy tries to yank his hand away but Flint’s grip is tighter than a pair of irons. 

 

The last thing Silver sees is a look of terror on Billy Bones’ face.

 

-   -

 

 

_ Tell me your name, the ocean croons. _

 

_ Tell me, thief. _

 

_ Tell me your name. _

 

_ He looks at her with her curved shoreline waist and messy nest of waves for hair. Meets her eyes, the gleam of sun against the horizon, and smiles. _

 

_ Tell me your name, he croons back. _

 

_ Tell me, boundless woman. _

 

_ Tell me your name. _

 

_ The ocean shifts and suddenly he stands before a woman with soft, curling hair and a smile as sly as a fox.  _

 

_ “Mother,” he says.  _

 

_ She comes forward and cups his face, still smelling of jasmine oil and clouds of heady incense. He closes his eyes and leans into her touch. _

 

_ “You’re mine now,” she hums. “You cannot take from me, but I can give to you. So I give you him. I give you his life.” _

 

_ Her hand presses against his chest, which shivers under her touch and blooms open like a morning glory, fragile and grotesque. She reaches inside, hand curling around his heart. _

 

_ “But this? This is his now.” _

 

_ Silver lets her take it, ribs curling back beneath his flesh, skin knitting together with nothing more than a thin, silver scar left behind. _

 

_ “It’s always belonged to him.” _

 

_ “You cannot lie to me. I was here before the land, the sky, life itself. I know all things.” _

 

_ Silver smiles, sharp and white. _

 

_ “Then tell me, what is my name?” _

 

_ -    - _

 

 

 

He wakes to the sound of the shore, water against sand. Opens his eyes to find Flint staring down at him. 

 

“You’re alive,” he breathes, reaching up to touch his face. 

 

Flint curls his lip, but leans forward into his touch.

 

“You’re a shit,” he snarls, hand fisting in Silver’s hair. “You should have left me well enough alone.”

 

“I couldn’t,” Silver says, hand still cupped against Flint’s face. 

 

“Why?”

 

“You know why. You know better than anyone else in this world.”

 

“Tell me,” Flint says, leaning close, lips brushing against Silver’s. “Tell me, you fucking thief.”

 

“She called me that too,” Silver says, studying him. “Why am I thief for saving who I love? Your life was not supposed to end there.”

 

“How could you possibly know?”

 

“Because I am not meant to be here without you,” Silver says, arching up against him. “Without Madi.”

 

He tries to kiss Flint, but he snarls and flings himself away. Silver sits up and looks around, bewildered. They’re on a beach but it’s not Nassau.

 

“Where are we?”

 

“Don’t know,” Flint says from where he’s ankle deep in the water. “I just swam until I found land.”

 

He turns to look at Silver and Silver’s breath catches in his throat at the inhuman sharpness to his face.

 

“You were dead,” Flint says, face growing more inhuman by the second. “I carried your corpse through the water because I couldn’t bear to leave you behind on that table, chest split open. I swam until I couldn’t swim anymore, convinced this was the river Styx and you had come to join me.”

 

Silver struggles to stand and realizes he doesn’t have his leg or his crutch. 

 

“She could have at least given me my leg back,” he mutters as he crawls over to Flint. Sits in the water and leans against his leg.

 

A moment later he feels Flint’s hand rest on his head.

 

“You’ve made me a monster,” Flint says softly. “I can feel it in my blood. My bones. This body is not right.”

 

“Then change,” Silver says, feeling himself drifting away again, dissolving in the water. “Return to the sea.”

 

Flint walks further into the water and Silver watches as he disappears beneath the water. Waits for ten silent, hopeful breaths and then sees Flint’s head pop up again. Waits patiently for him to swim over where Silver sits.

 

“What did you do to me?” Flint asks, voice raspy and dry above the water.

 

“I called you back to life,” Silver says, opening his arms. “Back to where you belong.”

 

Flint melts into his arms and it’s the feeling of a strong, scaled tail against his legs that finally makes Silver understand.

 

“Oh,” he gasps, pulling Flint to him, burying his face in his hair. “Please understand, I could not bear to lose you.”

 

“Why?” Flint asks, lips brushing against his ear. 

 

Silver slides his hand up Flint’s back and presses where he can feel his own heart beating beneath Flint’s skin. Flint makes a low, deep noise that sends a chill up his spine. Digs his claws into Silver’s hips and starts to pull.

 

“She called me a thief,” Silver says as Flint starts dragging him beneath the waves. 

 

“You saved my life,” Flint says, eyes glowing as he pulls Silver closer to him. “A life that was already spent.”

 

“I gave you mine,” Silver says. “It was mine to give.”

 

“And now you’ve cursed us both,” Flint snarls just before he dives beneath the water, pulling Silver with him.

 

Silver closes his eyes and lets the water wash over him, settles into the feeling of Flint’s arms wrapped around him. Perhaps they are cursed, but how is that any different than what they were facing before? A war that was slowly deteriorating, a cause too noble to be championed by pirates. The brief time he thought Madi was dead had been intolerable. The hours spent confronted by Flint’s body unbearable.

 

He and Flint are still alive, even as they both descend into darkness not meant for humans to occupy.

 

He does not regret it.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note: Silver does "kill" himself by stabbing himself in the heart, but it's a blood sacrifice to bring Flint back, but he wasn't 100% it was going to work so please keep that in mind as you read!


	2. you will answer our taut hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Have you ever seen the dead come back to life?” Billy asks her.
> 
> Madi looks up at him with disgust and rage. It’s a formidable expression, he’ll give her that.
> 
> “Once.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the updated tags!

“Have you ever seen the dead come back to life?” Billy asks her.

 

Madi looks up at him with disgust and rage. It’s a formidable expression, he’ll give her that.

 

“Once.”

 

Had watched a boy call his twin back from the dead in the middle of the fields, the moon hazy in the thick, humid heat of Nassau. It’s one of the few memories she has of the Guthrie household. Remembers her father running outside to fold her into his arms and hurry her inside. They’d left for the island not long after that. She doesn’t remember much.

 

What she remembers most of all is the smell of rot in the air. The scent that had filled the cabin of the Walrus as Silver sat grief stricken in front of Flint’s body. The scent that still lingers as she watches Billy pace like a caged animal. Back and forth with the rhythm of the water.

 

“I’ve seen it too,” Billy says, looking at her with the one eye he still has. “Just once. Saw a man mangled by a cannon shot stir on the surgeon’s table after the doctor cut open his veins for him. Brought back a cursed, bloodthirsty thing that we were forced to throw overboard. Turned himself into a monster all his own.”

 

“Only if the dead are cursed,” Madi says. “Only if they are made that way by the living through violence.”

 

“Then Flint will be some demon more unholy than he already is,” Billy spits. “And Silver will have gone right along with him. They must die.”

 

“ _You_ will die for what you’ve done,” Madi says. “You and all your men. They will know where you are no matter where you go, this I swear.”

 

She doesn’t flinch when Billy turns and hurls his cup against the wall of the cabin with an enraged noise.

 

“They owe me their lives!” he roars. “For all that they have done to me and mine!”

 

“All things that happened because you chose this life,” Madi says calmly. “And now there are things that will happen because of what you have done to _me and mine_.”

 

Billy tilts his head in confusion and Madi tilts her chin up triumphant. From below deck there comes the sound of screams and Billy looks down at the wooden boards, still confused. Then there’s more screams and the sound of pistols being fired and he looks up at Madi in horror.

 

She smiles.

 

“They might be monsters now, but they are _mine_.”

 

 

**\- - -**

 

 

_Once, there was a girl to whom the ocean spoke._

 

_She does not remember when, or why, it happened. Hardly remembers the big, sprawling house where the Family lived. Or the tiny room where she was born, downstairs in the quarters._

 

_But she remembers the sea._

 

_Roaring against the shore at night, too far away to see from that house. On Sundays, the one day her parent were allowed rest, her father would take her down to the shore and stand knee deep in the water as he held her. Would whisper stories about a land, greener than she could ever imagine, across that wide body of water._

 

_The ocean would lap against the skin of his legs and whisper truths to her. Would call her towards the ever rolling waves, bright with sunlight._

 

_Little Queen, said the waves. Daughter of many. We wait for you._

 

_She does not remember much but she remembers her father’s hands, large and scarred as he bundles her up in the middle of a raid. Hurries down to the shore and places her in a boat with her mother, to be carried away by the sea._

 

_Remembers the figure of him on the shore, so small and distant, and ached to be in his arms again. To stand tall beside him and look out across the water and listen to that voice again._

 

_A voice that became many over time, all clamoring for attention as the waves beat against the shore._

 

_Multitudes._

 

_Reaching back centuries._

 

 

**\- - -**

 

 

When the ship is silent and reeking of blood is when death come for Billy Bones.

 

The floor between him and Madi erupts in a violence of shattered wood and Flint crawls from the opening with a fluid grace that could never belong to something human. Leans down to pull Silver up without any effort and sets him down on his feet before he turns and faces Billy.

 

Madi wants to rush to Silver. Wants to put her hands on his face and chest. To feel that he’s _alive_ after she’d seen him limp and covered in blood.

 

He holds a hand up when she tries to come forward and shakes his head. Just this once, she does as he says and stops, waiting.

 

“Don’t come too close,” he says softly. “You’ll get blood on your clothes.”

 

Such a small thing to be worried about when he looks at her with eye glowing in the dim early morning light and a face pale with death. Still, she waits, watching as he turns back to Billy.

 

“Did you think I’d let you?” Silver asks softly as Flint paces behind him. “After what you did? After what you tried to do? You’re the one who let them shoot Flint in the first place, weren’t you?”

 

Madi can remember finding Silver slumped over Flint’s body and it’s an image that still haunts her, Silver’s animal cry of grief ringing in her ears.

 

“And if I was?” Billy asks. “I was doing what you didn’t have the sense to do.”

 

“Yet you didn’t have the sense to have them put me down like a dog too,” Silver hisses and his face twists into something monstrous. Face too sharp, too pale, too dead, eyes hollow and dark before it returns to something human. It’s proof that while he may speak, he is not alive.

 

But he’s _here_ and Madi will have him however he comes back to her.

 

“I tried,” Billy says as they prowl closer. “I tried to warn you what he was dragging us into. The danger of him and _her_.”

 

His remaining eye meets Madi’s and she can see the fear in it, primal and desperate. She feels sorry for him, for a moment. Then she remembers a knife, cool and sharp against her throat and she moves away. Presses herself into the corner of the room as Flint starts to shift. The outline of his body seems to blur before scales coat his skin and claws curve down from the tips of his fingers.

 

“You killed the crew you lost your leg for,” Billy says, looking at Silver as he struggles to comprehend what Flint has morphed into. “And now me? Your friend?”

 

“We didn’t kill all of them,” Silver says softly. “Just the ones more loyal to your plans. As for you, I think you and I know very well that a friend wouldn’t do what you did to me.”

 

“I did nothing to you. Your death was by your own hand. You made that choice and now you have to live with it.”

 

Madi almost misses it, the subtle flick of Silver’s wrist before Flint springs forward. Billy yelps and there’s a spray of blood across the ceiling and then he falls to the floor, dead. Silver sighs, looking down at him with something like regret, then he turns to Madi. There’s a single drop of blood on his face, below his eye. She watches it run down the curve of his cheek before meeting his eyes again.

 

He opens his arms and she rushes into them without thinking. Presses her forehead against his in that way of theirs, an _I love you_ without the words. Pushes his coat open so she can press her hands to his chest, searching for that heartbeat. Searching for proof this isn’t just a dream.

 

“It’s not there,” Silver says softly when she feels only the rise and fall of his chest, no steady heartbeat to soothe her fears.

 

“Then where-?” she asks before she feels the press of Flint at her side. She looks over to find him human again, a spray of blood on the collar of his shirt the only proof of what he’d done.

 

“Here,” he rasps, taking her hand in his and bringing it to the center of his chest. There, beneath skin she can feel is warmer than Silver’s, is the steady thrum of a heartbeat.

 

She turns to Silver with wide eyes and he gives her a soft, sad look. Takes her other hand from his chest and preses a kiss to her palm.

 

“He lives,” he murmurs against her skin. “And I do not. That was the cost.”

 

She knows what it means. It’s a nightmare for Silver, to never be released from this life. From the grip of time and misery and the hardships of life.

 

That one day he will exist and she will not.

 

“I’m sorry,” Flint says and she turns to him. Finds glowing green eyes looking at her with pure misery.

 

“For what?” she asks.

 

“For loving him,” Flint says softly.

 

“Don’t start,” Silver says softly, dangerously. “You know that’s not what I meant that night.”

 

“I know,” Flint says, still looking at Madi. “But it’s true. Everyone I love dies. It’s a curse.”

 

“Loving someone is not a curse,” Madi says firmly. Tragic, perhaps, but not a curse.

 

“It is now,” Silver says mournfully, looking at her as though she is already dead.

 

So she pulls him close and presses her lips to his. They’re soft, and warm, though his skin feels different. Too smooth and too soft for a pirate. Like all the sun and scars had been erased from his face. She can smell the ocean in his hair, sharp with salt, and she sighs at the familiar scent.

 

Hears whispers of encouragement in her ear, the voices of the sea come back to her again.

 

“I will show you why it’s not,” she says. “And then we will fight this war on our terms.”

 

Hears Flint hum softly in agreement as he presses against her back, a steady presence of support as she looks up at Silver.

 

“The ocean once called me, filled with the voices of the dead. Now you stand before me, just two of those voices. Two more that I have a duty to care for.”

 

“I’m dead. You have no obligation,” Silver whispers even as he feels Flint’s claws dig into his waist as Madi leans up to kiss him. Feels the beat of his own heart in Flint’s chest against his spine.

 

“I made vows and we were not parted were we?” Madi murmurs. “Death was not enough. I once told you I would follow you anywhere. Now I ask you to do the same.”

 

 

****\- - -** **

 

 

_When the word love was spoken to him as a child, all he could think of was the scent of rot._

 

_Empty earth being filled by the dead._

 

_That is what love was. An emotion wasted on mortal bodies that could so easily be destroyed. The painful ache in your chest before the agonizing wave of grief flooded your chest and burned your throat._

 

_Love was not something Silver ever wanted to feel._

 

_But he does._

 

_Feels it down to the very marrow of his bones as he watches Flint. Feels it in the tips of his fingers and  the roots of his hair when Madi speaks. It’s matted under his nails and caught between his teeth._

 

_Feels it in every part of his body as though all they had to do was ask and he would pull himself apart at the seams for them. Would unwind every lie and every mask he’s spun from nothing, from nowhere, into the creature he is now to let them reside in the space between his ribs where their love would be safe._

 

_Flint and Madi are too alike. They feel so deeply and so openly. Vulnerably.  Let themselves experience loss and use it to fuel their anger. Do not crumple under the weight of grief._

 

_Stand tall in the face of dead bodies and empty earth. Have stood side by side and watched their enemies burn and all the while Silver has watched them with a thought crawling up his throat, begging to be released._

 

_This war will break them._

 

_He knows it will. Knows that no matter what future it brings, war is in itself a horror. One that cannot be easily overcome or forgotten. It will fester in them forever._

 

_Over and over again until there’s nothing left at all. Until they are dead and he with them._

 

_But now, he is not alive._

 

_He breathes but does not need to. Dreams but does not sleep. Eats but is never satisfied._

 

_Silver is dead and he feels that love slide free of his ribs, slithering into the space left by the heart that now beats inside of Flint’s chest. It thrums with such power that he could almost believe that for just one moment, he had not driven that knife into his chest._

 

_Flint and Madi are alive and they command a patchwork army that looks to Silver for guidance. Silver the man returned from the dead. Silver the one who controls the monster called Captain Flint._

 

_He cannot give them what they want. They will fight and they will die because that is war. They will kill and they will pillage because that is also war._

 

_They will be monstrous and there is nothing Silver can do about it._

 

_Nothing but tuck his love away inside his chest and protect the ones it belongs to. Force them to look at reality once again. To fight this war in a way that will spare as many lives as possible._

 

_That will leave them something to make a life from._

 

_It works, for a while. They win battles. The British are driven into retreat. They have more soldiers. The island is theirs ._

 

_Then, of course, they learn that the dead sometimes have never died in the first place._

 

_That is what nearly ruins them_

 

 

****\- - -** **

 

 

They find Thomas Hamilton hidden the shadows of the sugarcane, listening to the secrets they whisper at night. He peers out at them from the stalks, eyes wide as he takes in their appearance and the plantation burning in the background.

 

He keeps looking at Flint in particular. At how his familiar face is too sharp and peppered with scales that shine in the dark, red with the fire’s reflection.

 

“They told me you were dead,” Thomas whispers, looking at him. “That you and Miranda had perished in a storm at sea.”

 

“I was,” Flint says softly, stepping forward. “Not anymore. I shall never die again.”

 

Thomas reaches out to touch his face and he leans into his touch. His face softens, more familiar, though aged.

 

“James,” he murmur and Flint shivers against him. “My James.”

 

Thomas fists his hands in his shirt and pulls him forward into a bruising kiss. Wraps his arms around him and Silver can see why Flint was so eager to return to them. They look safe and warm, a sure, steady place in a life that was not.

 

Soon, Flint draws back to look at him and he turns to Silver, motioning him forward. Silver comes closer and Thomas’ soft, blue gaze feels like knives against his skin. Silver meets his eyes and finds them burning with a keen understanding that makes Silver feel exposed.

 

“You must be the one that called him back to the sea,” Thomas says, leaning in close to study him. “Your eyes are the same color as the water.”

 

“Almost,” Silver whispers. “My name is John Silver. It’s good to finally meet you, but we must go.”

 

He turns to Flint, who nods and takes Thomas’ hand. Reaches to take Silver’s too but Silver moves away from him. He feels flayed open and he doesn’t know why, only that he feels that a longing has been satisfied by seeing Thomas Hamilton’s face. His lips burn with the impression of a kiss he did not give.

 

His heart is in Flint’s chest, but the love it felt was not his own.

 

It was frightening and he nudged them both along under cover of darkness, back to where Madi was waiting with her men on the shore. Hurries to her when he sees her, wanting to hide himself from Thomas’ gaze against her side.

 

Flint follows him, pressing close to his back as the boats are loaded up.

 

“Don’t turn away from me,” he asks, mouth soft against Silver’s ear. “Please. I need you right now.”

 

Silver takes a trembling breath and turns, looking up at him.

 

“I’m not turning away from you,” he says. “But you must tell him what has happened first.”

 

Silver glances over at Thomas, whose brow is furrowed as he looks at the two of them. He’s figured out that Silver and Flint are close, but he cannot know just how much their lives are intertwined.

 

Flint nods, going back to Thomas, who follows him into one of the boasts even as his gaze still lingers on Silver. Silver watches back until he feels Madi’s hand touch his wrist.

 

“Come,” she says. “Time to leave this wretched place.”

 

He nods, letting her lead him to a boat and it’s not long until they’re back into the rolling caress of the waves and he feels more settled than he had so far inland. Wraps his arms around Madi and pulls her against him, back to chest so that she’s shielded from the cold spray of the nighttime water.

 

“He will understand,” Madi says softly, putting her hand over his around her waist. “Like I have come to understand.”

 

Silver makes a soft noise and above him the moon disappears behind a cluster of clouds.

 

He does not know if Thomas Hamilton will understand just what he’s done. Does not know if Flint will truly forgive him now. He had denied him the afterlife with his lover and now he would be forced to watch him die too.

 

“He will understand,” Madi says again in the dark as they make their way back to the ship.

 

“How can you be so sure?”

 

“I think more than anyone, he would understand what you’ve done,” Madi says, looking up at him.

 

“Would you?”

 

“You are not the same as I am,” Madi says softly, turning away from him. “I know what awaits those who give themselves to the sea. Many before me thought it better than what this life holds, but I have too much work to do to ever consider it.”

 

It makes Silver feel like someone has a hand around his throat and he feels he cannot breathe, though he does not have to.

 

“Would you not live forever to do so?”

 

“No,” she says softly. “I would not.”

 

She thinks of the voices she hears even now, lapping against the sides of the longboat a they approach the ship. They grow in number every day. She cannot imagine a thousand lifetimes of those voices in her head.

 

“I would not give me heart to the sea for anything,” she says, standing up as a ladder is thrown down to them. “But then again, I have given my heart to you, and you belong to the sea. Perhaps I have already thrown myself into her waters.”

 

The thought terrifies Silver.

 

 

****\- - -** **

 

 

_The ocean is what waits for them. Waits with open arms._

 

_Whispers to them at night. Drives the men mad with longing._

 

_It’s what made humans build boats in the first place. A need to return to her nurturing womb. To the hypnotizing comfort of her open waters._

 

_It’s here that Silver curls up with Flint in the shadow of a cave, far beneath the surface of the water. Here they nestle in the darkness, pressed close enough to share a heartbeat._

 

_“They wait,” Silver murmurs, looking up at Flint. “For us, now that the war is over.”_

 

_“Do we have a place outside this war?” Flint ask him, tail shifting in the water to curl around Silver. “Do we have a place on land? Among humans?”_

 

_“Is that not what you’ve always asked?” Silver whispers, too afraid to look at Flint. Watches the faintest bit of light ripple overhead. “We are not monsters. You taught me that.”_

 

_“When I was alive,” Flint hisses. “When I was not like this.”_

 

_“You are alive,” Silver murmurs, splaying his hand on Flint’s chest. “I made it so.”_

 

_“You made me a monster.”_

 

_“You are alive,” Silver says again. “There is nothing monstrous about that.”_

 

_“Your love does not make this right.”_

 

_“And yours doesn’t absolve you of all the violence you’ve committed,” Silver nearly snarls._

 

_Flint’s eyes glow brighter for a moment but he doesn’t argue back. Stays silent as he settles down against the smooth, grey rock. Keeps his arms around Silver._

 

_“I have done a monstrous thing for love,” Silver says, resting his head on Flint’s shoulder, hair rippling like a nest of eels in the shadowy light. “And I died for it. I told you that I do not regret it.”_

 

_“Yes you do,” Flint says, tangling his fingers in those curls. Fists his hand and pulls so Silver is forced to look up at him. “Admit it.”_

 

_“The only thing I regret is that they didn’t shoot me first, so I didn’t have to feel what it was like to lose you,” Silver snarls. “And I know you feel that way about Thomas. About Miranda. And I would do it again for you and for Madi.”_

 

_His heart races in Flint’s chest when Silver’s taloned hand comes up to rest against the curve of his throat._

 

_“I did it out of love and I would do it again.”_

 

_"Would you let me go?" Flint asks, tilting his head._

 

_"You've only ever had to ask," Silver murmurs, voice soft and sweet. "But that doesn't mean love will disappear. That it will loosen it's hold on either of us. You know this."_

 

_Flint does._

 

_This is, perhaps, why he's able to take his leave one morning, Silver giving him a knowing look when he announces his intention. Claims unfinished business elsewhere._

 

_A look that Flint hasn't seen in a long time. One that says he knows Flint to his core and that this separation will never last._

 

_It's been a long time since anyone knew Flint that well._

 

****\- - -** **

 

 

All Flint had ever known was love.

 

Deep in the marrow of his bones he felt it. He loved the scent of the ocean, the wind cool and sweet across his skin. He loved the feel of the world around him. The leather spines of books, the wood of a ship, the smooth texture of clothes.

 

The warmth of skin against his.

 

Flint had only ever known love and had been subject to its whim for as long as he can remember. He loved his parents who had laid dead beneath the earth for as long as he can remember. He loved his grandfather, stern but caring, and his gruff way with the world. He loved a boy, though he did not know it then. He loved the characters in books, their fleeting lives that only existed in ink on paper. Loved so much and so often that it swallowed him whole.

 

He loved a man and that man had died and left him mad with grief.

 

Had torn him apart and taken Miranda with him, the two of them caught in a maelstrom of rage and despair. Had destroyed them and then given them an unholy anger to forge themselves anew.

 

Now he was alone and that love had come back to him.

 

A love that he still felt despite having the heart of another inside his chest. This heart was not used to the love Flint felt. Raced with every thought of it. Skipped a beat when he looked at Silver in the sunlight. Struggled to contain the grief he still felt over Miranda and, until recently, over Thomas.

 

Right now it felt as though it was going to burst of out his chest, watching Thomas digest everything that he’d told him. How the man he once knew was so different from that young, hopeful lieutenant he wasn’t even sure he had a claim to that life anymore. It felt more like a dream than a memory these days.

 

Thomas looked horrified, but he still clung to Flint’s sleeve with one hand, desperate to keep him close. His touch made Flint skittish, yearning for the soothing presence of Silver at his back. This was nearly too much for him to bear, but Silver would not let him near until Thomas knew.

 

Knew that this life had not been kind to them.

 

“He did this because he loves you,” Thomas says softly, looking at him. “There’s no other explanation. He loves you, so he died for you.”

 

“You died for me,” Flint says softly. “It seems to be a reoccuring theme among those I love.”

 

“Miranda isn’t here with you,” Thomas says, so quiet that Flint can hardly hear him. “Is she?”

 

“She’s dead,” Flint says softly. “I died. It seems the only one to make it alive out of all of this, is you.”

 

Thomas reaches up to touch his face, fingers trailing across his cheek. His fingers are rough and calloused, so different from what he remembers, but the heat of them is the same. The touch still leaves him breathless.

 

“I have mourned you and her for years,” Thomas says, studying his face. “Imagined over and over again that the sea finally took you back, and her with you. Now it seems I have your Mr. Silver to thank for you being here before me again.”  

 

“Even as I am?” Flint asks, letting his face shift. His teeth grow long and numerous, too many to fit in his mouth, and his eyes glow an inhuman green.

 

Thomas leans down and presses his mouth to the jut of Flint’s jaw, nosing softly at his cheek.

 

“I have dreamed and dreamed of having you back in my arms,” Thomas murmurs, wrapping his arms around Flint. “I would have you just as you are, if only you will stay that way for as long as I am allowed.”

 

Flint nods and turns to press his mouth to Thomas’ throat and feels the heart in his chest finally settle.

 

 

****\- - -** **

 

 

_Fingertip to fingertip is how they meet again._

 

_Hands clasped together as they walk out of the water, Thomas and Madi watching patiently from the shore._

 

_Silver turns to Flint and smiles, tugging him close. Flint curls around him and pulls him into a bruising kiss. Makes a soft sound at the warmth of Silver’s lips, at the healthy flush in his cheeks. Then he realizes that nudging against his ankle, is Silver’s left foot._

 

_“How?” he asks, looking down where Silver wriggles two feet in the sand._

 

_One is covered in a myriad of markings, black like ink and in a language unknown to anyone but the water lapping at their ankles. They lace up Silver’s exposed calf to where they meet a new, pink scar that circles his leg just below his knee. Stolen, it seems._

 

_“The ocean owed me  favor,” Silver says softly, threading his fingers through Flint’s hair. “After all, I gave her you.”_

 

_Only a thief would say such a thing._

 

_“I was always hers,” Flint says softly. “Even before this. Before you.”_

 

_“Yes,” Silver agrees, face shifting into something less human. “Perhaps.  But your heart wasn’t.”_

 

_“Still isn’t,” Flint hums, putting a hand on his chest. “This is mine now. You gave it to me”_

 

 _“It’s always been yours,” Silver parrots, eyes shining with mischief. “Come on. They’ve waited long enough for us._ I’ve _waited long enough for this.”_

 

_Flint takes the last step out of the sea and onto dry land, free soil as Madi has made it. Watches her and Thomas walk down from the dunes to greet them, smiles on their faces as they hurry across the sand to them._

 

_“About time you got here!” Thomas calls, just before he sweeps both of them into his arms. “We’ve been waiting hours.”_

 

_“The sun is still up,” Silver says, opening his arm to fold Madi into their embrace. “As long as that’s true, we’re not late.”_

 

_The sky starts to bleed red as the sun sets, casting them all in a warm glow. In this light Flint and Silver look human._

 

_In this light, they are alive._

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on tumblr @hotniatheron or leave a comment!!! I love feedback, thanks.


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